


in the garden.

by scoundrelhan



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Baze Loves Gardening and Chirrut, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Rogue One
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 20:11:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9511319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scoundrelhan/pseuds/scoundrelhan
Summary: If you are in the garden, I will dress myself in leaves.If you are in the sea, I will slide into that smooth blue nest,I will talk fish, I will adore salt.- Mary Oliver, from section 7 of “Rhapsody,” in The Leaf and The Cloud: A Poem





	

Baze Malbus was born on a planet that was not meant to sustain life - his, or otherwise. He loved his home, despite its unforgiving nature. Jedha was a wasteland, and a frigid one at that. Thirst was a concept he understood from the moment he left his mother's womb. The planet's droughts were near never-ending, and when the rains did come, they were fleeting, passing as quickly as they appeared.  
  
It was such a human thing to resist that, to test the boundaries that he’d been taught could never be crossed. _There was a natural order. Everything was as the Force willed it._ Gardening was a peaceful endeavor, and it had been fairly easy to carve out a small part of the temple for himself and his plants. After meditation and prayer, he’d slip away down the winding, stone corridors and revel in the lack of human company. They were supposed to be bonded, the Guardians, but the only bond he felt was the common goal of protecting the ancient crystals the temple concealed. Even that was a small thing, a fragile string barely keeping him tied to the earth. The only reason he was here was because he had nowhere else to go. Baze believed in the Force, had since he was a child, but his faith was a grain of sand compared to the vast beaches most of the men and women here carried in their hearts.

Today, he trained, hard and ruthless, like usual, and ate his small lunch, like usual, and stole away to the deserted part of the temple, like usual. He walked the familiar path unworried, knowing that no one would miss his absence. Baze’s routine was a simple one, but it was kind like nothing else in his life had been. Comfortable, even.

His garden had grown throughout the year, seeds collected from travellers, and market vendors who sold more than they let on. The space was all natural light and crumbling stone. Part of the ceiling and far wall were caved in, allowing an unobstructed view of the distant lands beyond the mesa upon which NiJedha was built. Baze allowed himself a smile. Every color from natural greens to glowing purples and vibrant reds painted the dull stone walls, petals and leaves and vines like a living wallpaper. He took a deep breath that smelled of soil and pure life, stepped over the threshold, and -

Baze froze. He was not alone. A man was slumped against a column that stood guard in the middle of the room, reaching towards the vaulted ceiling. He was asleep, chest rising and falling beneath the plain robes that all the Guardians wore. A staff that looked like the ones they used for training was at his side, but it was more complex, definitely more lethal than it let on.

Baze moved towards him, making sure not to make too much noise, but before he could say or do anything else, the man was up and Baze was staring down the shaft of the staff.

“Never try to sneak up on a blind man. It doesn’t work,” the man said, and the staff returned to his side. He smiled easily, and offered Baze his hand.

Baze did not take it. The man didn’t seem at all phased.

“I’m Chirrut.”

“You are not allowed here.”

“I didn’t know you owned the temple,” Chirrut shot back without pause, turned his back, and walked further into the room as if Baze's statement had been an invitation.

Baze was not used to people. Most of them feared him, or found his silent and imposing nature unpleasant, but Chirrut looked far from afraid as he strolled into the room, staff tapping lazily on the stone floor. Baze clenched his jaw, and followed after him in frustrated silence.

He watched Chirrut shuffle his way along the wall overflowing with colorful vegetation. His outstretched fingertips brushed every once in awhile over a drooping leaf, a curled petal, and every time, he would stop to inspect the plant further, whispering something that Baze couldn't hear. When he reached the end of the row, Chirrut turned, and the smile on his face was so wide, so white. Like the blazing Jedha sun, Baze couldn't stop looking despite the pain.   
  
"You did all of this?"   
  
Baze grunted in response, and somehow, Chirrut's grin grew, until it was too much to bear. Baze' chest felt too small, too tight, like something was trying desperately to escape the cage of his ribs. He did not want this feeling, but it was demanding his attention all the same. Baze forced himself to look at a rare vine he didn’t know the name of spilling like a quilt over the edge of a wood plank serving as a countertop.   
  
"You are full of surprises," Chirrut said, cheerful. "The Force - it is strong here. Stronger than anywhere else. Can you feel it, friend?"   
  
_ Friend _ . Baze blinked at the stranger's - he might as well have been - casual usage. He'd fallen asleep unwelcome in the one place Baze came to be alone and himself, and this man had the audacity to call him "friend". Except, the anger wouldn't catch, fizzled out as soon as he looked upon Chirrut once more.   
  
"I feel annoyed, and we are not friends."   
  
Chirrut's smile didn't falter, only morphed into something lopsided, a little amused. His clouded eyes were piercing, a heavy weight, as if despite his blindness, he could see right through him. The man climbed the step leading back towards the rest of the temple and stood in the archway.   
  
"It was a pleasure meeting you and your plants, Baze Malbus. If you ever  _ are _ looking for a friend _ , _ you know where to find me."   
  
He spoke Baze’s name like a child who’d just discovered a new word and couldn’t stop saying it, couldn’t stop turning it over in the mouth until they remembered the exact taste of it. Chirrut's dark robes swept across the dusty rock as he disappeared. Baze was left to wonder in paralyzed confusion how he’d known Baze’s name, and if he'd even been there at all.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is entirely based off of a post I saw on Tumblr. Link is pasted below. The final chapter should be up before the week is over. Also, if you're reading my wip, expect an update on that as well. Anyway, this is such a soft, wonderful concept. Hope you enjoyed, as always! :)
> 
> http://scoundrelhan.tumblr.com/post/155465501994/senator-organa-senator-organa-consider-baze


End file.
